Fighter, Lover, or Both
by 4horsesatetheworld
Summary: Bahorel and Feuilly meeting for the first time. There is some fighting


He should have never come here. Feuilly was new to New York. He was an army brat when he was younger; Mom was long gone; Dad only noticed when he got called from the Polish boarding school Feuilly was stuck in. Now, he's 20, on his own, trying to find work in New York City.

On his first day in the Big Apple, he met Hansel. Hansel worked in an area that people called Alphabet City in Manhattan. Feuilly knew Hansel from the brief time he stayed in New York for a month at the age of seventeen. Hansel offered him a job and asked Feuilly if he wanted to room with him. Feuilly agreed; the only other option was sleeping in the park. This is what Hansel had said of his apartment: "The rats give it character." Alphabet City was shady, but it was a place to sleep.

Yet, instead of sleeping on this Friday night, Hansel had dragged Feuilly to a seedy basement bar. The bartender hadn't even tried to card him when he ordered two shots of vodka. He also ordered some pretzels, but he hadn't realized that they were German pretzels, so they were huge. Hansel was three shots further in than Feuilly and was talking with some blonde fellow. Every now and then, the blond man would turn and look at Feuilly and nod. Hansel shook hands with the blond man and skipped over to Feuilly. Feuilly looked at him sideways, as Hansel smiled like he was about to sacrifice an animal to some Pagan god.

"Guess who has a front row seat to the next fight?" Hansel asked.

"Me," Feuilly answered.

"Nope. It's me. You've got something better."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah you're in the ring!"

"What? Are you crazy? I could get hit."

"Yeah, the idea is you hit the other guy before he hits you."

"I'm fighting?! This is even worse."

"Nah, it's great. Come on. We'll be late."

Hansel pulled Feuilly down one corridor of the bar. Feuilly was less than 2 meters tall but skinnier than a toothpick and had no muscle. He had been in fights before, sure. The boarding school had almost encouraged them. But, he definitely did not want to fight the man in the ring at the moment. The bear of a man had over 2 meters tall; his lips were right in front of Feuilly's eyes when Feuilly stood across from him. His shoulders had to be at least a meter across. Hansel pushed Feuilly into the ring.

"Oh, a ginger. I've haven't fought a ginger before. At least not tonight," the man chuckled.

"Yeah, well, I don't really want to be fighting," Feuilly said.

"Aw, come on!" The larger man pouted.

"But, I've had enough drinks that I don't really care."

"That's better!" The other man cheered.

"Are you ready, contestants?" A new man walked in the ring and demanded; he was the ringmaster. Feuilly nodded and the other man roared. The two men circled each other. Feuilly stepped as if he was stepping on thin ice. The bear man stepped heavily, self-assured. Bear Man lunged, and Feuilly ducked and rolled under his arms. The man laughed and clapped his hands, saluting his competitor. The ext time he lunged at Feuilly, he lunged low more towards Feuilly's solar plexus. Pushing against the other man's shoulders and jumping, Feuilly back flipped over and away from him. Feuilly turned quickly and boxed the bear man round the ears, but not before the bear man struck him in the stomach. He struck the other man in the throat then hit him by the right kidney. This bear of a man fell to the ground. Feuilly walked away; it was obvious he was unconscious. The ringmaster grabbed Feuilly's hand, lifting it high. Feuilly jumped offstage where Hansel grabbed him into a tight hug.

"You owe me a drink. And some ice," Feuilly grumbled to his flat mate, clutching his middle.

"Yeah, whatever. What to you want? Potato vodka? Beer? Wine?" Hansel asked.

"Anything that will take the edge off these bruises on my stomach." Hansel pulled Feuilly towards the bar.

"Two beers, Diebels Altbier, please," Hansel ordered. The bartender passed two beers to them.

"Cheers!" Hansel cried. Feuilly sipped the beer. It wasn't too strong and had a slight bitter after taste. He promptly spilled the beer on himself when two huge arms wrapped around his waist.

"You're a great fighter, ginger. Bet you'd make an even better lover," a voice purred into his ear. Feuilly recognized the voice; it was the bear man. Once Feuilly got set down, he replied, "You must say that to all the men who knock you unconscious."

"What can I say? You're drop dead gorgeous, baby. You make my head spin. I'm Bahorel." The bear man stuck out his hand. It was scarred, especially on the knuckles as if he got into a lot of fights. Feuilly shook it, but when he tried to pull it away, Bahorel lifted it to his lips and gave it a kiss.

"So, ginger, what's your story?" Bahorel inquired.

"My name is Feuilly. It's French. Don't try to pronounce it."

"Feuilly," Bahorel said in perfect French. When Feuilly looked at him in amazement he explained, "I'm born French, raised American. Didn't learn English 'til the middle of second grade when the teachers realized that I didn't just have terrible spelling. I was writing everything in French."

"Ah, nice to meet another enfant de la Patrie. I'm originally French. Been an army brat for the past 15 years though."

"Well, you know what they say about the French. We're the best lovers." Bahorel winked cheekily.

"Buy me a drink first. You made me spill this one all over myself. And you owe me a new shirt too."

"I'll give you one of mine tomorrow morning. Yo, Adrian. Two more of whatever he has. So, what are you doing in Alphabet City, my wayward Frenchman?"

"Working. Trying to make money in the country where the streets are paved in gold. What about you, bear man?"

"What I'm not doing is becoming a lawyer. Otherwise, I do everything. And everyone." Bahorel checked out Feuilly, pointedly.

"You'll have to buy me dinner first."

"Say, I know the best polish sausage place a few blocks from here. It's real close to my apartment."

"Oh is it now? What are we waiting for? I'm hungry, and you're buying." Feuilly said goodbye to Hansel who was flirting with a brunette and followed Bahorel outside. Bahorel stumbled a bit, and Feuilly grabbed him.

"Whoa there! Let's be careful," Feuilly said.

"The world is swirling by my eyes. My head hurts."

"Do you need my to kiss it to make it better?"

"Yes please." Feuilly tried to press a kiss to the other man's cheek, but Bahorel grabbed his face and kissed him on the lips. When they broke apart, Feuilly was slightly out of breath.

"You know what?" he gasped, "I'm not so hungry anymore. How far away is your apartment?" Bahorel just grinned.


End file.
